


In the Jaws of the Dragon

by PhoenixAkupara



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixAkupara/pseuds/PhoenixAkupara
Summary: Capturing the Avatar is the only way Prince Zuko can redeem his honour and return to his home. When he succeeds, he will learn that the Avatar in the hands of the Fire Nation is the greatest danger the world has ever faced.





	In the Jaws of the Dragon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SteamyRomanceNovel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteamyRomanceNovel/gifts).



  Smoke curled into the air from the center of the clearing, the last embers of the campfire fading into the night. An owl-hawk hooted from somewhere deep in the forest, and the wind rustled tree branches, nature playing a soft symphony for anyone who would listen. Above, the waxing moon bathed the clearing in a silvery light, surrounded in the night sky by a field of twinkling stars.

  Aang let out a peaceful yawn as he lay on his back, staring up at the night sky, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Despite the fight they’d had with Fire Nation soldiers earlier that day, he felt relaxed. The naturalistic atmosphere was calming, and he was glad to be back on his journey toward the Northern Water Tribe. Sokka figured another week or so and they would reach their destination – it was slow going, and Aang was getting impatient. He was anxious to bolster the small amount of waterbending he had learned from Katara, and to be in a city where Zuko and his Fire Nation cronies couldn’t reach him.

  There was a loud snore from Sokka's sleeping bag. Aang smiled to himself. When he had left the air temple to run away, he had thought that being Avatar would mean he would never be able to have a true friend again. Who could be a friend to someone as important and powerful as the Avatar? Katara and Sokka had quickly proven that there were people willing to befriend him, and even go so far as to help him fight an entire empire. He shook his head in wonder. Their trust in him continued to astound.

  Despite the calming sounds of nature and the empowering sense of trust he felt from his friends, Aang still felt the weight of his duty resting on his shoulders, an insurmountable volcano looming over his life, ready to erupt. A heavy sigh escaped him as he thought of the task that lay before him. In abandoning the world for over a century he had allowed the Fire Nation to grow in power, overbalancing the delicate dance that the world required of the four nations and their four powers. Now he had to either convince the Fire Lord of his error – not a likely scenario – or topple an entire empire and attempt to restore that balance; another seemingly impossible task. He had no idea how to be an Avatar, no mastery over any of the elements other than air, and he was expected to end the rule of one of the most powerful Nations the world had ever seen.

  Aang lay on his back, staring up at the small, twinkling lights above. Sometimes he wished he could live among the stars, care-free and wild. He couldn't help but wonder what his life would have been like had-

  There was a rustling in the treeline, loud and distinct. Aang rolled into a crouch, the air staff that had been lying beside him flying to his hand. He stayed there, motionless, ears straining to catch another hint of movement. Was it a trick of his mind? A wild animal? Or another careless ambush? They had dealt with enough of the latter over the past weeks that Aang was on edge.

  "Got you." The voice in his ear was so sudden that he had little time to react. He swung his staff around. A foot crashed down on his wrist, blindingly fast. Dropping his staff, he brought his other palm up to airbend. A hand struck his cheek, the front of his chest, the side of his neck. His body collapsed. Another hand pressed down on his mouth, covering his face with a wet cloth, and he sucked in a startled breath. The smell was sharp, sweet. All he knew after that was darkness.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

  There was much to be said about Zuko's ambush plan. Clever, simple, perfectly executed, and successful were all words that any good general would have used to describe it. Regrettable, however, was not.

  Zuko stood on the bow of his large Fire Nation war ship, the wind whipping at his pony tail and vest as they cut through the water at full speed. Steam rose from the massive vent atop the ship, trailing behind like a wispy snake, and little could be heard over the sound of the engines churning and the water slapping the sides of the ship. Zuko preferred it that way. It gave him a chance to mill over his thoughts.

  He had the Avatar in chains deep below his decks, properly secured and incapacitated so as not to repeat his failure at the Southern Water Tribe. They were headed back toward the Fire Nation with the very prize his father had sent him out to retrieve – albeit under the impression that he would fail miserably. An impossible task, and here he was, successful. And yet, there was an unexplainable lump in his chest.

  He had deigned to leave the two water tribe brats alive, showing them mercy despite his officers' protests. What could a pitiful waterbender and an unskilled "warrior" do against the might of his father's empire? But his random act of kindness was hardly an explanation for the strong sense of regret that now tightened his heart. The notion that he regretted capturing the Avatar was, of course, ridiculous. So, what was it? Did he regret taking so long to achieve his goal and redeem himself in his father's eyes? Was regret over speaking up in that war meeting so long ago finally reaching its peak now that his quest was over?

  Zuko shrugged uncomfortably. He had experienced more than his fair share of emotional turmoil over the past few years. His hand came up to touch his scar of its own accord. It wouldn't be long before he was back home in the halls of the Fire Nation's Palace. He should be happy.

  He let out a sigh. He _was_ happy, dammit.

  Nodding to himself, he turned around to find his uncle standing behind him, a cup of tea steaming in his hands. Typical. The old man had become lax with protocol in the past few years. Had he not been a respected general and the Fire Lord's own brother, he would have been scolded for having frivolities on the deck of a war ship in enemy waters. Zuko masked his disapproval and met his uncle's eyes.

  "What do you want?" he asked, voice harsh. Immediately, he wished he could take that harshness back. His uncle had been nothing but helpful to him over the past few years. Zuko briefly wondered if he could have accomplished his task without the old general. No, that was foolish, of course he could have. It was his destiny. Regardless, he softened his expression, averting his gaze slightly.

  "You are in a mood," Iroh chuckled, the sound coming from deep in his large belly. Not only had he become careless, but fat as well.

  "In a mood, Uncle?" Zuko snorted, turning back to the ocean ahead as Iroh stepped up beside him. "I caught the Avatar and can finally return home with my father's approval. I am in a _happy_ mood." The lie was as much for himself as for his Uncle. He _was_ happy, dammit!

  His uncle took a sip of tea. "The storm clouds above your head are as obvious as the scar on your face," he said. The old general’s presence was calm and thoughtful, as usual. "You still do not let go of your rage."

  "What would you know?" Zuko snapped, voice rising. Then he clapped his mouth shut, wincing. Besides simply proving Iroh's point, lashing out at the old man would be uncalled for. He needed to control himself better.

  Iroh simply raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his tea. It smelled strongly of cinnamon, an odd change from his usual selection of herbal teas.

  "Sir!"

  Zuko barely heard the man's voice behind him. Turning around, he found one of his officers bowing low before him.

  "Officer Tzen," Zuko said, nodding to the man. Tzen rose, the strict set to his face and perfectly tailored uniform a welcome sight. Zuko preferred order and discipline on his vessel, not tea drinking.

  "Sir," Tzen repeated, his voice even sterner than his face. "The prisoner, he has awoken."

  Zuko's heart skipped a beat. The Sleeping Water he'd bought at an Earth Kingdom port had been reported to last days, and he’d been growing impatient. He was looking forward to confronting his captured prize. He wanted to see the defeated look on the Avatar's face as he flaunted his victory. Maybe it would help settle his emotions.

  "Thank-you, Tzen," Zuko said, waving a dismissal. The officer bowed low, retreating below deck. Zuko didn't waste a moment, following closely on the officer’s heels. The halls below were sweltering compared to the cold northern wind, heated by the war ship’s massive engine.

  People avoided his gaze as he pushed forward, descending into the depths of the ship. The steel walls rattled, the torchlight flickering shadows against the simple red and black decor. He was faintly aware of his uncle following behind him as he focused his mind, preparing to confront the Avatar. Child or not, the boy _was_ the Avatar, and Zuko meant to best him. A battle of determination. He knew from previous experience that the boy wouldn't bend easily.

  Approaching the door to the Avatar's prison room, Zuko let out a slow, calming breath, then entered. The room was bare – a large, red banner with the black flame of the Fire Nation covered the back wall, a pair of torches lit the room from the sides, and in the very centre of the floor sat Aang the Avatar, hands and legs shackled and chained to the floor. Zuko strode toward him with confidence, smothering any lingering hesitation, looming with as much of his height as he could muster. Aang just stared back at him, scowling.

  A large bruise decorated the left side of his face where Zuko had struck him with a blow, darkening his eye. Zuko frowned, tracing the bruise with his eyes. It bore an uncanny resemblance to Zuko’s own scar. He shrugged uncomfortably. That… _emotion_ tried to well up in him again. Whatever it was, he shoved it down, hard. He would _not_ succumb to weakness, not here and now.

  "Hello, Avatar," Zuko muttered. Behind him he heard Iroh close the door and move off to the side of the room, sipping at his tea. Zuko put his old uncle out of his mind. It was just him and Aang. The Prince and the Avatar.

  Aang said nothing. Zuko could see the fire behind his eyes, strong and bright and defiant. He intended to snuff that fire out.

  "Enjoying our hospitality?"

  Aang snorted and looked away, chin held high.

  Fury swelled within Zuko. With a grunt, he backhanded Aang across the face, the sound echoing in the small room. Aang fell to the floor with a cry, raising a chained hand to his face. His eyes turned back to Zuko, and the fire that had fueled them before had roared to an inferno. _So much for staying calm,_ he thought, chiding himself for his impulsiveness.

  They stared at each other for a long minute, the battle of wills visible on their faces. Defiance radiated off Aang, the chains straining as the Avatar leaned forward. Zuko clenched his fists, holding in the urge to strike out. What did it matter if Aang stood defiant! The boy was his prisoner! He would bow to Zuko, one way or another!

  Then, suddenly, Aang’s demeanor broke. The steel set in his shoulders softened, and his face fell. "Don’t do this, Zuko," he said, and his voice wavered. " _Please_. The world needs balance. If you lock me up and let your father do what-"

  "Do not!" Zuko lashed out again, and again Aang was thrown to the floor. "Do not speak to me of my father. You know nothing about him, nothing about the Fire Nation. You're just a snivelling child pretending to be some mighty Avatar."

  Aang struggled back to a sitting position. "I know you know what I'm saying is true. Please, Zuko. Help me keep the world from falling into chaos." His tone was pleading, almost pitiful.

  Zuko turned away, and again that emotion gripped him. He sucked in a deep breath, pushing it away. It was a weakness, his past coming to haunt him. That was all! Once he had returned to the Fire Nation, he could hand Aang over to his father, and put the last few years of his life behind him. He would be happy.

 The Fire Nation would break this pathetic excuse for an Avatar. They would shape Aang into a tool for the Fire Nation, a tool the Avatar had always been destined to be. Soon, everyone would be made to understand that fire was the greatest element. And it was Zuko who had captured the Avatar, Zuko who would be praised for the Fire Nation's greatest victory.

  "Balance?" Zuko muttered. "What use is there for balance? You fight a pointless battle, Avatar Aang. You'll realize that soon enough."

  With that he opened the door and left, his uncle following behind him. It would be a week yet before they arrived at the Fire Nation, and Zuko had preparations to make. Soon, everything would be right again. Soon, he would have his honour back – and his glory.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! New chapters as soon as I can!


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